


Snakes & Fealty

by claryfrary



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Loki is...chaotic, Modern AU, Rivals to Lovers, Sigyn is ready to bust some heads, and...obviously...fell in love, deviates from the mythology, how loki and sigyn met, to say the least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryfrary/pseuds/claryfrary
Summary: Loki, adopted by Odin and Frigg after the conquering of his realm as a child, has been raised up to take a blood oath to the King of Asgard. But after years bonding and growing with the royal family, Loki thinks he might be considered for the throne - until Odin announces he will crown his eldest son, Baldr. Loki takes it upon himself to kill Baldr for that. Now fleeing just about every Aesir god, he seeks refuge with the one Midgaard-dwelling goddess there is: Idunn, goddess of eternal youth, whose magical apples keep all the Aesir young. If anyone can protect him, it’s Idunn. But then, who knew Idunn had such a disgustingly pretty daughter?
Relationships: Loki/Sigyn (Norse Religion & Lore)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

I hated my name. Sigyn. What kind of name was that? By first grade, I was already making people call me “Sid”, telling them it was just a unique way of spelling Sidney. Of course, everyone listened - who in their right mind (besides my mother) would call a five-year-old _see-g-in_? Naturally, though, that was the least of my problems right now. 

Leah had just dropped me off at home, me still grumbling about the horrible mispronunciation of my name by the supply teacher - because it still said “Sigyn” on the attendance and people are illiterate, I guess. My mom sat where she normally did when I arrived home from school, at the kitchen table, but today there was no magazine in front of her, no three-thirty coffee beside that. Her blonde hair sat in a braid over her shoulder, and oh, yeah - a guy with his back to me at the table with her.

I dropped my bag on the floor, letting it hit as loud as it wanted to. My Mom didn’t appear surprised to see me standing there, even as she fiddled with the end of her long braid. The man turned, looking startled, but in a way I wasn’t familiar with - green eyes narrowed to thin slits, black brows drawn downwards in harsh, thick lines. Like he’d been threatened and I was the threat.

“Hey, honey,” Mom said calmly. “How was school?”

I cocked a brow, standing in the same place. “A teacher called me Seagull.” I shifted my gaze to the man, still staring at me, but with fewer wrinkles in his forehead and open-looking eyes, arm now slung over the back of our dining room chair. To him, I said, “I’m Sigyn. Call me Sidney. And you are?”

“Lovely to meet you, Sigyn,” he glanced quickly at my mom and back to me. His voice was low and the loveliest in the room, and he spoke with an accent I couldn’t place. “I am Loki Laufeyson. I think I’ll be staying with you...for a short while.”

Now both my eyebrows were raised. “Mom?”

She sighed softly, standing and heading for the coffee machine on our kitchen counter. “Loki’s parents are friends of mine. You remember the Laufeysons, don’t you darling?” 

I folded my arms over my chest and walked over to her, taking the steaming ceramic mug she offered, drinking deep and long. “No,” I replied blandly. Loki - god what a stupid name, but I could hardly talk - was watching us curiously, not even trying to pretend like he couldn’t hear us, which might have been the polite thing to do in the situation. He looked a lot younger than I’d initially thought, not a man at all. Just a boy, tall with broad shoulders and vivid eyes.

Mom’s eyes seemed to flash, but all she said was, “He’s just staying for a little while. His parents just passed away yesterday.”

I leaned in close to her, “And he couldn’t stay anywhere else?” I hissed. I hated even having friends stay over, the messes I had to clean up because they were the guest and the constant pressure of feeling like I need to be entertaining every second that they’re present. Now that guest was a boy, and I wouldn’t be able to walk around in my bra or without pants whenever I felt like it. 

“I’m Loki’s godmother, sweetheart. Now please, make nice, would you?” 

It was my turn to sigh; I really couldn’t deny my mother - if not only because she was my parent and I often didn’t have a choice and sometimes she was even right - this small request. His parents had just died and he seemed nice enough and well...he was hot. Looking at him, I felt somewhere deep in my bones that this would be great, would be terrible. Terribly great. 

The green of his eyes reminded me of insects, of summertime, of snakes. I gulped down more coffee and smiled at him, at his ragged-looking clothes. “How do you feel about shopping?” 

* * *

We drove in stiff silence. It was a rare occasion indeed that my Mom let me sit in the driver’s seat of her precious car, let alone _drive_ it. Before I pulled out of the driveway, I busied myself connecting my phone to the car, waiting for him to put his seatbelt on as I selected my newest favoured playlist. He stared back at me, all wild black hair and slight confusion. 

“Ready?” I asked, not wanting to actually have to prompt him to put his seatbelt on. He shifted in the leather seat, seeming to narrow his focus straight out the windshield.

“Ready,” he affirmed. 

I pursed my lips, raising my brows. He wasn’t serious, was he? What was this, paint by numbers? But then again, he must be frazzled, considering his parents had just died yesterday. I guess I really couldn’t blame him for being a little spacey, a little forgetful - I swallowed down my impatience, my urge to snap something like _Are you dumb?_ at him and prompted calmly, “Seatbelt?”

This seemed to catch his attention, and he turned to look at me again. “You want me to put on my seatbelt?” And he laughed. Laughed himself hoarse, in fact. It was a noise just as appealing to me as his voice when he spoke, but more musical, and as much as it went down like honey, smooth and rich and thick, it grated on my nerves to an insane degree.

So I stuck the car into drive, pressed the pedal to the floor and we rocketed forward before I slammed my foot on the brake and Loki’s body - seemingly all in slow motion - bent forward and his head rapped off the dashboard, bouncing backwards and then into the plastic again. I was glaring at him, though he didn’t seem to notice as he rubbed at his face in all the places it’d hit the dashboard. My death stare fell short when my eyes glazed over the plastic of the dashboard and did a double-take; was that a _dent_?

My eyes shifted again when he spoke, words sharp and rough around the edges: “I am - you - you…! Why would you do that!” he finally came up with.

“Seat. Belt.” I said.

Glaring, Loki reached back for the belt and clicked it into place. I cranked my music and sped out of the driveway and he didn’t speak to me again until we’d arrived at the mall, which was just fine by me.

“Must you really come into every store with me?” He complained now. I had to be honest, I’d never imagined - ever, really - that someone so attractive would be so whiny. It was just...mind-boggling. And maybe I was being selfish and stupid and the whiny one, because his parents had just died, but, really? Who had the audacity to complain when someone else was buying them clothes (expensive clothes, I might add) and offering to let them live with them?

I spun to face him, the bags in my hands swinging and bouncing against my legs. “No, not at all,” I smiled widely at him, sweet as a peach. “That is if you have some way to pay for all this yourself?” 

“I don’t,” he snapped, but he walked slowly beside me, so that our strides nearly matched and I could keep up with him easily, versus when he had first tried to shake me off and walked as fast as he could with his long legs. That must have been a _real_ leg stretch for him. He seemed to take a deep breath and his hands relaxed from the tight fist he’d been holding them in at his sides. “I...apologize.” Loki looked like he was gagging on the words as they came out and I laughed.

“You’re apologizing? What _ever_ could you be apologizing for?” Now this, this I knew was just plain mean - playing dumb. Did I even deserve an apology from someone who was clearly frazzled and grieving for how he was acting? It wasn’t like I could very well hold it against him. 

“I think,” Loki began slowly. “That I’ve been acting a little like a child.”

I sighed. “I guess I owe you an apology too.”

Startled eyes met mine, confusion scrawled plainly on his pretty face. I had never seen a face like his in all my life, not even in magazines, and I didn’t think it was likely I’d ever see one even close to as perfect as his was, right here in front of me. The green eyes that looked like they knew a little too much, the full pink lips frowning at me, the long straight nose and squared-off jaw, all of it was unbelievably symmetrical and framed by messy black hair that looked like he hadn’t had a decent haircut in a while. As we looked at each other, the impulse to run a hand through that wild hair shot through me. It caught me off guard, and I took a step away from him, averting my eyes. Wow. Talk about hopeless - I’d known him for less than five hours and I wanted him to kiss me. 

Well.

There was another startling thought.

I cleared my throat. “For, um, you know, the way _I’ve_ been acting.”

Loki chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re behaving exactly right, considering the situation.”

“Agree to disagree,” I gave a small smile, this one not mocking in the slightest like my earlier one. “Where do you want to head next?”

* * *

Loki was...odd. He’d refused all the food I’d offered him in the mall cafeteria, looking at my fries like he’d never seen them in his life, or like they had directly insulted him. On the drive home he had asked me about the music we were listening to.

“What kind of music is this?” He’d prodded the touchscreen on the dash, switching the song accidentally.

I’d furrowed my brows. “Um, pop, I think? Maybe alternative.”

He then made a noise like this was an exceedingly interesting answer and turned up the volume. “I quite like it.”

And now, sitting at home, staring up at my emerald green ceiling, it felt _weird_. Weird because I knew he was here, in my house, and because we weren’t together anymore. Which felt even stranger to me, considering I’d known him for like, I don’t know, less than a day. I shook it off - or tried to, but it kept bothering me, despite my best efforts to distract myself (homework and Netflix). Eventually, when my clock told me it was nearly midnight, I gave in and crept quietly out of my room and down the stairs, avoiding the spots I knew squeaked - the last thing I wanted was to wake my mom and have her ask what I was doing and her figuring out I was going to see Loki. She always assumed the worst about me and boys, though she usually wasn’t wrong in her assumptions, but still - a little trust, please.

I’d made it to the bottom of the staircase when I heard my Mom’s voice. _Fuck_ was all I could think. Because not only had she caught me, she’d caught me going down the stairs like I was trying to hide something, which is to say, tiptoeing like a weirdo in my own house.

But her voice was coming from the kitchen and I paused where I was standing, apparently not above eavesdropping. “What did you tell her Loki?” The tone of her voice made me imagine her standing there, pinching the bridge of her nose the way she did when I frustrated her. 

I perked up even further when I heard Loki’s melodic voice, listening more intently, if it was possible. “And what, precisely, would I have told her, Idunn?” And then, before my Mom could reply, “Are you truly so daft as to think she would come home to you, and with me no less, if she knew what I am? What you are?”

“Do you think you’re so terrifying, Loki? To scare _my_ daughter? All you are is a child with too much power, arrogant and impulsive, who threw a temper tantrum when Odin - rightly - named Baldr as his heir. You aren’t even Asgardian, Loki, and no matter how Frigg may treat you, you are still Laufey’s son. I should have turned you away when you showed up at my doorstep.”

“Turn me away, then, Idunn,” he taunted. “Make yourself my enemy, if you so desire, but you know that temper of mine is a little testy - I might just slip again and drive my knife through _your_ heart.”


	2. Chapter 2

My heart beat wildly against my ribs and I was walking before I could stop to think about what I was walking in _to_. I marched the short distance, feeling like I might smack Loki. I was disgusted with myself for how I’d wanted to kiss him, touch him, a couple of hours ago. If he so much as laid a hand on my mom, I’d kill him. I would.

“How about I fucking _decapitate_ you?” I shouted at him.

Two sets of eyes swivelled to me, my Mom for once surprised, and Loki’s nostrils flared like he was about to start breathing fire. He took a step towards me and I didn’t move a muscle. Funny how I could keep steady in the face of him like this, but not when I thought about his mouth on me.

His voice was soft, “Do you want to repeat that for me, dove?”

“I don’t think you want to do that, Loki,” my mom began. “It might trigger -”

I stepped closer to him too, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Touch my Mom, and I will fucking kill you. Want me to go slower? Loki. Guillotine.” I drew my fingers across my throat in a mimicking action.

When he knocked his forehead into mine, something warm burst in my palms, in my chest, outwards like I was expelling a fever, all at once. He flew backwards, smashing into the counter, cracking it in two and falling in the remains of it. He grinned wolfishly up at me, all teeth, almost snarling. 

“Sigyn,” my mother warned, but it was half-hearted.

I was panting, all the heat seemingly dispelled from my body with that one burst. “Understood?” I asked him, breathless. He looked up at me still, disgustingly attractive leaning back on his forearms in the wreckage of broken wood and marble. His black hair was wild and hanging in his venom-green eyes, lips curled cruelly.

“Understood,” he agreed and held out a hand to me. Without thinking much of it, I reached down to clasp it, and that was when his other hand shot out - knife in hand, I might add - and stabbed me in the thigh.

I cried out, collapsing to the floor in a heap. “Loki!” My mom scolded, but like he’d simply slapped me on the back of the head instead of _stabbed me in the thigh_. 

But then Loki was yelling, too, trying to yank back the hand I was still holding, for some reason. “Let go of me! What are you doing to me?!”

Well, besides being in crippling pain, I was holding his hand and internally chanting _Die, die, die, die, die_ at him. But somehow I didn’t think that was what Loki was referring to. When I looked at where he held up our hands, I saw mine, and then one - his, it must be - wrinkled, with the skin sagging off the bones, spindly fingers so brittle within my own grasp I thought I might be able to just squeeze a little tighter and break his hand.

So I squeezed, because fuck you, he’d just stabbed me. But the pain was receding quickly and I pushed up from my fetal position on my kitchen floor. Asshole that Loki was turning out to be, he’d left the knife in my thigh, as I discovered when I was sat fully up, still holding his hand. I felt like I wasn’t even in my body at the moment, just floating somewhere above it, watching all of this take place as if I were as much a part of it as the coffee machine. I glanced at Mom. “What do I do?”

I couldn’t pick apart the expression on her face, and she didn’t say anything, just knelt down beside me and put a gentle hand on my wounded thigh. And then she ripped the knife out of my leg.

“Holy -”

“Mind your tongue, Sigyn,” she clucked at me, tossing the blade into the sink, as if it were no more than a dirty dish to be dealt with at a later time. “Given everything that’s just happened, I’m going to give you a pass on the foul language, but no more, young lady. Understood?” When I nodded she looked pointedly at my hand, still wrapped deathly-tight around Loki’s, where now his arm was beginning to sag and droop. “Now, let go of Loki, please.”

“I really don’t think I should,” I told her and squeezed tighter around his bones.

“Sigyn Freydottir, you don’t understand what you’re doing. Let go of Loki.”

Seeing as he was fully aware of what he was doing when he threatened to kill her and then stabbed me, her reasoning wasn’t really doing the trick. So just as a little payback, before I released his hand I twisted, hard.

He backed away from me, scooching his pants through the wooden splinters and dust, holding his limp arm and hand to his chest like it was a child. I didn’t feel bad, or at least I tried not to, and I didn’t find it all that hard to push away most of my remorse in favour of anger and righteous indignation. He _deserved_ that.

Whatever _that_ was.

In truth, I had no idea what had just happened to me and because of me and it was beginning to catch up with my already wild emotions and my brain, that was firing at an unusually slow rate. I was sitting in a pool of my own blood with a chunk of my kitchen destroyed, my mom to my left and a boy looking at me scornfully from where he sat opposite me.

But his hand was starting to look normal again, at any rate.

“Mom,” I said, but it came out thick and hoarse. She smoothed hair out of my face and behind my ears, holding my face between her hands.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she wrapped her arms around me now, and held me tight. The pressure felt wonderful, made me feel safe from the situation, and I guess that was when I started to cry. “Shh, shh,” she whispered. “You’re all right.”

I choked down a sob. What was _happening_? What had happened? What did I do?

Those questions I asked myself made me cry harder, and Loki shuffled awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen, standing now, looking anywhere and everywhere but my teary eyes.

He cleared his throat. “If it, um, makes you feel any better, my hand is fine now,” he held it up for proof. Sure enough, there wasn’t a wrinkle on his porcelain hand, and it looked just the same as it had before. A deep breath rattled out of me and I sunk more into Mom’s arms. I didn’t understand why I felt such a substantial sense of relief to know I hadn’t done any permanent damage when, when I had heard Loki threaten my mom, I’d had no qualms about bashing his brains in.

Mom pulled me to my feet, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Do you want your explanation right now, or do you want to get some sleep?”

I wasn’t tired when I’d crept down the stairs, but I felt absolutely exhausted now. “In the morning,” I said.

***

It was sunny when I woke up, more sunny that it should have been, and glancing at the clock, I saw it was well past the time I would have needed to be up to make it to school in time. It was lunch time, and I couldn’t believe my mom had let me sleep this late. It was _Thursday_.

I got out of bed and went downstairs. The only person I found was Loki, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him and last night yet. He was sitting at our kitchen table, reading the newspaper, his hair just as wild as ever and it occurred to me that maybe it was just wild because he got up in the morning and didn’t brush it. It occurred to me as I watched him that he’d stabbed me last night, and I still woke up feeling right as rain.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asked absently, without flicking his eyes up from the paper. “Or is it my hair?”

I was at the counter now - the part of it still standing, that is - and picked up an apple out of our ever-present basket of fruit. All the mess from last night had been cleaned up and the kitchen looked spotless. I tossed the apple between my hands, back and forth for a minute while I thought. What was the best way to broach this subject, and with Loki? Should I just go right in and demand answers, or ease into it?

 _Some weather we’re having, huh? Yeah, I know. So about you stabbing me and me doing what I did to you last night, care to explain?_ I rolled my eyes. Like that didn’t sound ridiculous. Although, was there honestly a way to broach it without sounding ridiculous? What if he just laughed in my face and tried to play it off like I’d dreamt it all or something? I took a bite out of my apple, savouring it. I had no idea what kind my mom bought, but they were always so much better than the ones I got from the school cafeteria.

“Good apples, aren’t they?” Loki asked casually. He’d folded the paper back the way it’d probably came in the mailbox and it was sat in front of him. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was wearing a baggy pin-stripe dress shirt, that I assumed he had tucked into the pair of black jeans I spotted under the table. Despite the mess that was his hair, he looked gorgeous as usual, in that wild way of his. It pissed me off to no end.

“Yeah.”

“Have you never wondered why your mother’s apples taste so much better than any other?” His lips had a cocky tilt to them.

The way he’d phrased it sounded kind of like a double-entendre but I elected to ignore that. “Not really.”

“You’re not really biting, so I’ll just tell you,” Loki conceded. “Idunn is the goddess of spring and rejuvenation. No one really knows that, though - it’s more common for people to know your mother as the keeper of the magic apples of immortality. It’s what makes her one of the more powerful goddesses, because without her, we aren’t immortal. We’re just humans with powers.”

“Oh and you’re the God of Sunshine and Rainbows,” I snorted. He couldn’t be serious right now.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Try God of Mischief and Trickery.”

I paused a little. I assessed him - it didn’t seem…far off. It didn’t seem impossible, considering what had happened last night. But then, it’d really been all me last night and all he had done was pull a knife. “So, just to clarify, what exactly is your point here?” I tossed my apple core into the garbage can. Since I’d eaten it all - been eating them ever since I could remember - did that mean I was immortal?

“My point is that you’re the daughter of two gods, and therefore a god yourself, and so that little…stunt you pulled last night? Your powers are manifesting. A little late, if I’m being honest with you, dove.”

I had a lot of questions, and they all spun around in my head so that I couldn’t focus on just one and wanted to ask them all at once. I wanted every bit of information Loki could give me. “What do you mean, _a little late_?” was the first one that came out of my mouth.

Loki leaned back in his chair, shrugging with feigned nonchalance - I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, clear as day. “All I meant by that is I started manifesting my powers when I was twelve. That’s all, pet.”

“Oh, big deal - you got really good at hide and seek for your twelfth birthday,” I quipped. I stopped short for a second, eyes narrowing on him. “Now you’re calling me _pet_? The hell kind of name is that?”

His lips curled into a wide, wide grin. An evil smile, if there ever was one. “You don’t like it?”

I looked at him, deadpan. “The opposite, actually. It turns me on to the _max_.”

He cocked a brow, not moving a muscle in the chair. “Well let’s get busy while Idunn isn’t home, hmm? What is it you mortals say - like rabbits?”

I fought fervently against the heat that wanted to bloom across my cheeks. “Maybe in the nineties, dick.” Literally anyone else, and I would not have to fight not to blush. Honestly. Just because I thought he was hot, my body had to go and betray me this way. Even after he’d stabbed me!

“A shame I wasn’t alive in the nineties, then,” his tone was mournful but his eyes danced.

I snorted. “What, you’re trying to tell me you’re not about a billion years old thanks to these magical babies?” I tossed an apple up into the air from the basket, catching it again in the palm of my hand.

Loki only cocked a brow. “Contrary to popular belief, Odin had a…hard time conquering the last of the nine realms. My realm, to be specific. In mortal terms, Odin has only had control of all nine realms since 2002, if I’m correct.”

I eyed him skeptically. He certainly _looked_ my age. Older, maybe, because most of the boys my age weren’t as good-looking as him. Which pissed me off just a little. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen and he not only stabbed me, but threatened to kill my mom. If it weren’t for that, I might’ve been trying to make out with him with all this lack of supervision my mom was suddenly granting me. Heat threatened to rise in my cheeks again at the thought.

My lack of response and the hot feeling in my face made his pure evil grin return. “What’re you thinking about, dove?”

“I have a name,” I snapped.

“Oh, but I thought you hated it,” he goaded, kicking his feet up on the table.

I walked over, crossing my arms over my chest. “I do. Take your feet off the table.”

He barely had to tip his head back against the chair to meet my eyes now that I was standing over him. Some hair fell away from his face, revealing the angles more freely and I hated him for it. “Well I hate _Sidney_ , so I’ve been forced to resort to pet names, pet.”

I grabbed his booted feet and hefted them off the polished wood of my mom’s dining room table. He let them fall loudly against the hardwood. “Call me Sigyn, then, I don’t care. Just stop with the shitty nicknames.” Not that he hadn’t already been calling my Sigyn like I hadn’t asked him not to.

“Good -” I began when the front door crashed open.

Loki and I stared at each other, stunned, in the suddenly ensuing silence. We were both in the exact same position, as if moving would break some spell. I shook myself, went to move to go investigate what the hell that noise had been when Loki grabbed fast to my hand to stop me. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing when he held a single finger up to his mouth, eyes imploring me to be quiet.

“LOKI!” It was a deep male voice, followed by scarily heavy footfalls, as if the guy weighed a thousands pounds. “YOU DIDN’T THINK YOU COULD HIDE AFTER WHAT YOU DID, DID YOU?”

I turned a glare on Loki. “What did you do?!” I whispered harshly.

He gave me a sheepish smile from where he sat and then I blinked and he was gone and a hand was over my mouth, an arm snaked tightly around my waist.

“Don’t scream,” he whispered against my ear.

The footsteps got louder. I bit Loki’s hand and he snatched it away.

“What is going on!” I demanded in that same whisper-yell.

“LOKI!” The seemingly-giant man bellowed, rounding the corner. And he was giant, with a scraggly beard and viking helmet on his head, wielding a sword so large I had no idea how it fit in my house. His eyes zeroed in on me and Loki.

“Trust me,” Loki sounded like he was pleading. “Close your eyes.”


	3. Chapter 3

I felt like I was falling and I grabbed at the arms Loki had wrapped around my waist, not sure if I wanted him to hold me tighter or let me go or if I just wanted the security of knowing he was still there.

And the feeling stopped as quick as it hard started. I opened my eyes, heart beating a frantic rhythm in my chest as I scrambled out of Loki’s arms. I turned to face him, and I thought I lost him because I was in a sea of people walking in both directions, talking amid the sound of honking horns. But there he was, watching me with venom-green eyes and wild hair falling in his face.

“What the fuck was that?!” I shoved at his chest. He stumbled, and I pushed him again. My eyes were stinging and I was determined not to cry. “Loki!” I shouted again, barely registering the eyes that glanced at me then away just as quickly. They were all too busy to focus much on me anyway, it seemed. I was just a blip on the radar, someone they’d never seen before and never would see again.

I took in a shuddering breath and that was when Loki felt he needed to intervene - or show me that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination - and he grabbed me by the wrists, gentle. More gently than he had ever seemed capable of to me. In my head, I thought him touching me like this - like anything - should feel like snake bites, teeth tearing into skin and venom seeping in.

Loki bent down to my level, meeting my eyes with his and I had to look away. _Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry_. I balled my hands into fists. Why did I even _want_ to cry? I forced myself to breathe deeply. In. Out. “You’re fine,” he said. “You’re okay.”

“What was that?” I asked again. I held his eyes now, and something in me liked that he was focused on me. When he remained silent, just starting at me in the middle of the sidewalk, I un-balled my fists, reaching my fingers out to wrap around his wrists, squeezing, nails digging into the soft skin there just slightly. “I swear I will murder you in your sleep if you don’t spit it out.”

He grinned. It started from one side of his face before migrating to the other and I bristled. I wanted to tell him to fuck off but then he said, “I may have…how do I put this? - well, I may have killed someone and a lot of people are pissed off about it.”

My eyes widened and all I could do was stare. I couldn’t even bring myself to let go of him. I really should not have been so surprised considering he’d stabbed me with the slightest provocation last night. But I still gaped at him. “We should talk somewhere else.”

* * *

Any other time, I recited to myself as he led the way into a brightly-lit hotel lobby, I would not be holding his hand. It’s just that this was a new city. I’d never been to New York before; Loki knew his way around and I didn’t want to get lost in the sea of people. That was all.

That _was_ all.

I was still holding his hand, though, as we got to the front desk and I leaned against the counter. His grip was warm and reassuring, and I liked the way… Never mind. It didn’t matter. Apparently my body had conveniently decided to forget that this was the boy who had stabbed me last night and liked the -

I made myself pay attention to anything but our hands, catching the end of Loki’s sentence: “…Presidential suite. Three nights.”

The man behind the desk raised a skeptical brow. “And how would you like to pay…sir?” I had to agree with the man’s tone. Loki certainly didn’t look like someone who could afford a presidential suite for one night, let alone three. And I knew I didn’t either.

I wondered how Loki would pay for it, and at that same moment, he whipped out a black plastic card, one I was positive wasn’t - couldn’t be - his. If it was, though, why had he needed to stay with us at all? Why had my mom needed to buy him clothes? A sharp pain appeared suddenly in my head - God, just thinking about Loki gave me a headache.

The man gawked at Loki, at the card, and I had a feeling I would look the same if I wasn’t busy rubbing my head with my free hand. Loki, for his part, seemed incredibly smug at the shocked expression.

As the man ran the card, or whatever it was he was doing, Loki turned to me and his smug little smile fell away. I’d say he frowned at me, but it was more of an annoyed scowl. Fine. Likewise. I snatched my hand away at last, stretching the fingers. “What’s that look for?”

“You give me a headache,” I snapped at him, glaring up at him in a way that made me feel like my eyes were burning at him.

Loki rolled his eyes, taking his card back from the man, plus two others. I heard him say something like _Enjoy your stay_ , but I was busy seething. First Loki had practically kidnapped me from my home after drawing some big viking dude after him - and consequently my mom and me - and then dropped us in the middle of fucking New York City and he was being pissy with _me_?

I was tempted to just turn around and march out of this hotel, find a train station or bus station - whichever I came across first - and take the first one out of here back to Maine. I could get just the same answers from my Mom that I could from Loki - probably better answers, if I was being honest. However tempted I was, though, it obviously wasn’t enough because I silently followed him into the elevator. He stood on one side and I stood on the other and I stared resolutely forward at the panel of buttons, away from Loki and all of his many reflections in the mirrors against three of the four elevator walls.

When the elevator dinged at the thirtieth floor and the doors slid open my heart picked up its pace in my chest, like it was running late for something. I’d never shared a hotel room with a boy before, but I didn’t see why that would make me feel so suddenly…twitchy. It was practically the same thing as him staying at my house.

Besides - I was mad at him and it wasn’t like we exactly liked each other. I kept telling myself that, and all the other reasons why it didn’t matter as we walked quietly down the hall (he’d stabbed me, he’d threatened to kill my mom, he was just kind of a jerk), but all my idiotic brain could think of when he stuck the key card in the door and held open the door for me was what he had said this afternoon, right before that guy had burst into my house.

_Well let’s get busy while Idunn isn’t home, hmm? What is it you mortals say - like rabbits?_

_I will not blush. I will not blush. I will not blush_. The mantra wasn’t working - stupid mantra bullshit - and Loki’s eyes lit up at my bright red face. His lips moved like he had some smart-ass comment rolling around behind them, right on the tip of his tongue and I narrowed my eyes at him over my shoulder as I entered the room. “Say it, and I’ll stab you.”

The door fell shut behind Loki as he snickered. “Now you’re making _me_ blush, dove.”

“Fuck off,” I swore, but it was less than half-hearted; the room - the suite - was absolutely stunning and it took my breath away a little. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the wall opposite the door, portraying a breathtaking view of New York, one I had only ever seen online. When it got dark, I knew I’d be even more enthralled.

There was a huge living room, two plush leather couches facing each other in a lowered dip of floor in the center of the room, a glass coffee table between them. The room was just…so big. So open and airy. I ventured further, to the left where a doorway led to a bathroom, finished with what looked like a Jacuzzi tub by the window in here, and then a large, circular shower in the middle of the room. Weird.

I drifted out, trailing my hand across the couches as I passed, heading for what I guessed was the bedroom on the right side of the room. The bedroom itself was dominated by a big white bed and I dove onto it.

If I was stuck here with Loki - as it appeared I very well was - I was going to enjoy it.

The bed was soft and springy, and I bounced a couple more times when I landed. The duvet was soft against my skin and smelled amazing. Not like the normal hotel-smell I was used to when travelling. I flipped onto my back, staring at the ceiling fan whirring quietly overhead.

Promptly, I was bounced off the bed, rolling to the floor.

I glared up over the side at Loki who had begun jumping on the bed right beside me but he only offered me that evil, evil smile in return. He held out his hand, a silent invitation, and helped me back up, yanking when I tried to merely sit on the edge. And for how lanky and lean he looked he was surprisingly strong.

I shot up to my feet, despite my best efforts to hold my place, and ended up planting myself flat against his chest with the momentum. “Dove,” he cooed down at me. “So clumsy.”

I pushed away from him, crossing my arms and trying not to feel ridiculous standing on the bed and glaring up at him. “I’m not clumsy, you asshole.”

His venomous eyes sparkled with dangerous amusement. His hair was even wilder, somehow, and his shirt had come partially untucked from his jeans. His lips were parted and I couldn’t stop staring at them. He had such a defined cupid’s bow and -

“Are you going to be a bore, or are you going to jump with me?”

I snapped my eyes up, brows furrowed. “Jump. On the bed. What are you, eight?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I think someone is just too cowardly.”

I stamped my foot on the mattress, like _I_ was eight. “I am not cowardly for not wanting to jump on the bed. You’re being stupid.”

“Is it the jumping on the bed you find stupid, or me, specifically?”

“Bo -” I began when the word cut off into a startled scream as Loki hefted me over his shoulder and began jumping up and down, the mattress squeaking and the headboard banging against the wall. “Lo-o-k-iii - !” I stuttered out, banging my fists against his back even as I laughed.

Grin audible in his voice, he said, “Oh, my apologies, dove,” and he let go of my legs.

And I fell.

Headfirst into the bed.

I scrambled back up to my feet while he laughed riotously, spitting hair out of my mouth and pushing it furiously out of my eyes. Fine - fine. Loki wanted to act like…this, so could I.

He was still busy laughing his stupid head off so I took a run across the advantageously big bed, launching myself at his back, wrapping my arms tight around his neck and legs around his narrow waist. But he barely budged, only took a stabilizing step forward.

One of his hands reached back to wrap around one of mine, and the next thing I knew I was on my back, spread flat out on the bed with my hair in my face again. He crouched down between my spread-eagle legs, propped his chin on his fist and watched me for a long moment. “I’m curious,” he said.

I thought for a moment about snapping at him - _I didn’t know this was a wrestling match_ \- but before I got the chance, he had opened his mouth again: “What, exactly ,were you just hoping to achieve?”

“This,” I said, picked up my foot and kicked out at him with it. A pleased smile spread over my face when he tumbled backwards, and kept going with the momentum of the kick. He barely managed to stop himself from falling completely off the bed. When he righted himself, it was like his grin had never lapsed, but if I expected him to retaliate - well, all he did was lift up his hand and twist it in a lazy sort of motion and suddenly I was log rolling off the side of the bed. I laid on my back staring up at the ceiling, dazed, trying to figure out just how he’d accomplished that, when his head was hanging over mine off the side of the bed, hair casting a shadow over his eyes.

Before I could ask, he wriggled his fingers over my face, a green-coloured smoke weaving between them. I felt my mouth pop open a little, a small “oh” leaving my lips. I couldn’t believe it - this was impossible, but here it was, right in front of my face, swirling emerald-green magic, and Loki was _doing it_. I sat up slowly, looking at Loki as I reached tentatively for his hand. When he nodded, I tried to touch the green, only to have my finger slide clean through, making my skin tingle, all the way up to my elbow. It was sort of ticklish, really, and I laughed softly. I turned his hand over in mine, trying to pinpoint where exactly the green came out of his hands, like he was a smoke machine or something. He let me prod and poke at his hand as long as I wanted, eventually drawing out of my grasp to slip onto the floor beside me, his long legs knocking into mine. “Watch,” he told me quietly, and I shouldn’t have blinked but I did, and suddenly the hotel room was filled to bursting with Loki’s.

Exact versions. All of them staring down at me. I inhaled sharply, reaching blindly for the boy beside me - he was exactly the same, but they couldn’t all be real, could they? There had to be one real one, and it had to be the Loki beside me, legs tangled unconsciously with mine. He wrapped his fingers with mine. “Too much?” He chuckled lowly.

I nodded, “Maybe just a little.”

Just like that, with only my nod, they were gone and there was only one of him, still beside me and still holding my hand.


End file.
